


we'll stay under the covers (safe and warm)

by orgiastique



Series: rule 63 erejean [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Fingerfucking, Rule 63, yup that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orgiastique/pseuds/orgiastique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She dreads the day she'll have to fish a wet and half-drowned Eren out of the tub after she dozes off under the spray. It's bound to happen sooner or later, she can feel it in her bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll stay under the covers (safe and warm)

2:49am.

Eren comes tumbling into bed, all elbows and knees. She climbs over Jean, nosing at the curve of her shoulder, feet slipping against the sheets, as graceless at twenty-nine as she was at nineteen. Jean hears her take a deep breath, feeling against her own chest Eren's swelling like a balloon, inflated with her scent.

"Hand," Eren mumbles, mouth pressed to her skin, voice buzzing like static.

Wordlessly, Jean slides her fingers up to Eren's neck, where she kneads them into tense muscles. The arm she has wrapped around Eren's waist tightens protectively as she presses a kiss into Eren's hair, still damp from the shower. She's never had to yet, but she dreads the day she'll have to fish a wet and half-drowned Eren out of the tub after she dozes off under the spray. It's bound to happen sooner or later, she can feel it in her bones.

"Sorry," Eren says, barely above a whisper.

"Not your fault." Jean shrugs, with a light hum.

"This year was supposed to be different,"  Eren says, touching her lips to the hollow of Jean's throat gently, apologetically.

"It's just a dinner, don't worry about it." She pats the small of Eren's back where her shirt has ridden up. Her skin is soft and supple and warm, covering Jean's body like a winter blanket.

Eren shakes her head, pushing herself up on her elbows, rising over Jean like a second moon, hair falling messily around her face. Jean lifts a hand to tuck the few strands covering her eyes behind her ear. Eren worries her bottom lip between her teeth, wincing when she accidentally sinks into the chapped, red crack on one side. "I promised you flowers, at least. Every year. Let me make it up to you?"

Jean tries to laugh it off, a light grumble in the back of her throat as she leans up to cover Eren's mouth with her own, nudging the sharp edges of teeth out of the way. "I told you it's okay, yeah? I'm used to it."

"But you shouldn't have to be," Eren says, catching Jean off-guard with the urgency in her voice.

Jean takes Eren's cheeks in both hands and forces their eyes together, studying her expression with narrowed eyes. "What's up with you today? Did something happen?"

"No," Eren says with insistence that screams yes. "Just think I should try being a better girlfriend once in a while."

"So you do think from time to time. Improvement," Jean says, ruffling her hair. When Eren squints at her petulantly, Jean's expression softens, hand turning back to cup Eren's face again.

Like everyone else in the world, Eren thinks about more than she lets on to; the difference is that Eren when left to her own devices will think herself into a maze faster than most. While Jean's usually pretty good at stopping her before things come to that point, with how few conscious hours they've spent together lately, it seems that Jean has caught on a bit late this time.

"You were doing all right anyway." She pokes at Eren with her thumb. "Really."

Eren frowns, puffing out her cheek against Jean's finger. "But we haven't even really touched each other in at least a week, maybe two," she points out. A pause. "...wait, thr--"

"It hasn't been that long," Jean says, rolling her eyes. "Last time was after you broke the laundry machine and we spent the entire day mopping up the house. Can't believe you forgot that."

"Oh," Eren says. Her eyes light up dimly as she recalls the memory. "Right. The day of the grumpy sex. You grouching about me tasting like laundry detergent."

"You got an orgasm out of it, don't complain."

"Pretty sure you were just imagining things," Eren insists, "'cause that shit woulda stung like hell."

Jean shudders at the thought. "Okay, okay, point," she concedes.

A silence lulls between them as Eren buries her face into the pillow, cheek pressed against Jean's, and Jean...weighs her options, her lips pursed in thought. On one hand, she has work tomorrow and though Eren doesn't, she must be exhausted so they should really sleep. On the other hand, she's had to suffer through one night too many of getting off with her own fingers to Eren's sleeping face and feeling like a creeper for it, so she'd like to seize the opportunity to rectify that while they're on the topic of tasting and touching.

Eren shifts a little against her, trying to get comfortable, the rise of her breasts cushioned against Jean's, their legs in a tangle, the heat of her core burning through her pajama pants against Jean's thigh.

\--oh, fuck it.

Lips brushing against shell of Eren's ear, Jean drops her voice to a low rumble as she breathes, "Wondering what you taste like today, babe. Think you're too tired to let me find out?"

The way Eren twitches and pulls back, eyes flickering to Jean's mouth, swallowing hard past the soft line of her throat, makes the answer all too obvious, but maybe she's still trying to do the good girlfriend thing because she says, "But you should let me--"

"You can barely wrap your tongue around words, let alone do anything technically demanding with it," Jean says.

"Hey, I--"

But before she can edge in another word of protest, Jean is already smoothing one hand along the dimple of her back underneath her night shirt, the other cupping the rondure of her ass where she begins to work her fingers against the firm flesh. She shifts Eren upwards toward the headboard so that the tiny peaks of her breasts poking up under her thin shirt is in Jean's face. Eren shivers when Jean nips at the dip between her collarbones first, leaving a series of nibbles down her sternum, as far as she can reach until Eren's shirt gets in the way and she pulls it up over her head. It catches in her wet hair, a flick of water flying into Jean's eye. Jean thinks to comment on the importance of drying her hair properly before bed but then she remembers what Eren said about grumpy sex and holds off, making a mental note to get on Eren's case about it at a later time.

Eren's hands fly to her shoulders when she wraps her mouth around a pink nipple, stroking it with her tongue in tight circles until the skin draws taut and Eren moans her name, low and breathless. She shudders, moaning quietly, when Jean pulls off with a lingering kiss to the tip. Jean smiles to herself as her mouth finds Eren's once more, in great appreciation of how responsive Eren is to everything she does.

"It's not even fair, how pretty you are," she says, licking a stripe over Eren's bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth and grazing it gently with her teeth.

Eren groans in the back of her throat, and Jean's smile widens because see--isn't it all so, so pretty, the way she can still get a reaction out of Eren over over small compliments like this and get her to flush all across her cheekbones? The hand on Eren's ass inches upward to finger the elastic of her shorts for a moment before reaching in, where her fingers meet bare buttocks straightaway. (Not wearing underwear at home is a Thing of Eren's that dates back to their college days when it, along with Eren's no-bra policy, was a source of excruciating frustration for Jean.) When she bends the knee Eren's lower body is sprawled around, Eren ends up half-riding her thigh, legs split open so that it is now easier to slide her fingers down the curve of Eren's buttcheeks until she meets the little bit of moistness seeping out from soft folds.

"Ready to go, as always," Jean comments, pleased, spreading the moisture.

Eren gives a small whine as one finger slips inside. Her walls tighten instinctively, warm and welcoming, as if beckoning the finger deeper inside her body--and to bring friends, if possible. Jean takes her up on the former invitation first, pressing in more insistently, not stopping until the palm of her hand is cupped snugly around Eren's ass. She watches Eren squirm around, hands all over Jean's body in search of purchase, hips grinding down on her thigh, and it's only when Eren starts swearing at her in truly inspired ways that she decides maybe they should save the fun and games for when they're not two weeks starved of mutual orgasms.

With how wet Eren is, Jean meets no resistance when she adds a second finger, grinding down along the front wall of the tight canal until she finds the rough patch of skin she knows will make Eren shiver and gasp and run out of breath calling her name. And when she digs her fingers against the spot, rough the way Eren likes it, Eren's reaction doesn't disappoint. Eren leans her forehead against the headboard, chest heaving in Jean's face. Jean takes one nipple back into her mouth, rolling her tongue against it, and begins thrusting her fingers with more purpose as she jostles her thigh against Eren's clit for added stimulation.

"Fuck, _fuck_ ," Eren gasps, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut, rutting down in small, frantic motions. She throws her head back, exposing the curve of her neck, and Jean stretches up to nip at it, lapping at the light little roses her teeth leave.

When Eren first begins to nose at her hair, Jean attributes it to her just being affectionate but when the nosing turns into irritated chin-tapping while whining Jean's name, Jean forsakes her work of culturing an ephemeral garden against Eren's skin to look up. Eren's mouth is on hers in an instant, wet and sloppy, tongue intrusive and dominant in her mouth, and it's only seconds after their mouths crash together that Eren gasps and clenches her legs together, twitching on the inside as more of her juices trickle out, pooling in Jean's palm, and she shakes and shakes and shakes, Jean's name tumbling endlessly from her lips between short gasps of air.

Jean maintains steady pressure inside Eren until her trembling subsides and she squirms away from the fingers which slip out of her, leaving a wet trail on her thigh as they go.

"Didn't even get a chance to taste you yet." Jean presses a kiss to the side of Eren's cheek. She pulls back to wiggle her sticky fingers between their faces. "But I guess I do have a sample."

Eren sputters, the soft blush on her cheeks darkening to crimson, coloring up to her hairline. "'m not a _food court_."

Jean shrugs, opening her mouth to say--

"And if you say you'd eat at my food court any day, I'm gonna punch you in the vagina," Eren says.

Jean closes her mouth. Then: "After I treated yours so nicely? Ungrateful little shit." She gives Eren's nose a light pinch. "Besides, you're up against good competitive. The food court at Cornerstone has fucking fantastic fajitas, remember."

Rolling off Jean and curling up against her side, Eren hums appreciately. "Yeah. Yeah, we should go again sometime."

"Wanna treat me to it later today?"

Eren considers this, running a thoughtful finger along the hem of Jean' shirt. "Is that how I'm repaying you for the fingerfuck and for missing our anniversary dinner? Fajitas?"

"Godly fajitas," Jean corrects.

"Yeah." A quiet, loose chuckle. "Yeah."

Jean leaves a quick peck on Eren's forehead. "Besides," she says, looking down at the hand not-so-surreptitiously inching her shirt up her stomach, "seems like you're about to add a little something to the package."

"You should think of this as the centerpiece," Eren says, taking Jean's earlobe between her lips and gliding her teeth over it. Jean's fingers tighten against Eren's waist as Eren leans in for a long, slow kiss that smolders between them in the chill of the night. "Wanna spend my whole life with the taste of you against my tongue."

Jean thinks she can physically feel the words run through her body, wreaking havoc as they go. "Can't decide if that was more parts proposition or proposal," she says.

"Hmm," Eren considers, pushing Jean's shirt past her breasts. She ducks down to flick her tongue at a rosy peak. When she looks up to see Jean's eyes dark with pent-up arousal, pupils dilated, a wide smirk settles around her lips. "Equal. Probably equal."

Jean turns this over in her head for a moment before nodding. "Okay." Because she can get on board with equal. "Equal sounds about right."

One of Eren's hands slides down the length of Jean's arms to find the hand buried among the sheets. She twists their fingers together before leaning in for another kiss. "Yeah," she says, with their lips a breath apart, "it's what I've been working on."

And Jean--even after all these years of receiving Eren's wack-ass curveballs still sometimes finds herself at a loss for words, just doesn't know what to say to Eren. Earnest, heart-on-sleeve Eren Jaeger who tries too hard at the things she cares too much about. Jean squeezes Eren's hand, tightening the clasp of them together.

"We can work on it together," she says, eventually. "We've got time."


End file.
